A Short Story: My First Vietnam War

As I rose from bed, I could hear my wife starting to make breakfast. Today was going to be quite a day, mainly due to a fast coming winter and the need to harvest the squash and corn was increasing each day. I proceeded to change into my work attire and brown maroon felt hat I had bought myself last week. I walked out of my room and went into the main room where I had my breakfast every morning. I walked over to the table and sat in a hand carved chair made by the finest carpenter in Saybrook where my porridge awaited me. After sitting down at the table with my two sons and wife, I blessed our porridge and had my younger son read a Bible verse. Reading the Bible is a crucial part of being a Puritan since if one could not read the Bible they

We narrowly made it out of the airport. Hank almost got taken down because he got distracted. These infrasound weapons were devastating, but had a major drawback, one that almost cost my best friend his life.

A jagged pain arcs across my chest as I take in a breath. My legs grind up one after the other, barely moving but still pushing me forward. The runners ahead of me continue to press on, legs becoming a blur as they widen the gap. Eyes glancing up for a split-second, I find a primitive strength rising up within me, something that says No. You are not done yet. Throwing my arms higher and feeling my body ache even more, I set my gaze on a tree that lines the top of the hill, and I gradually increase the length of my strides, slowly but surely catching up with the group that was about to leave me behind. As we pound around the corner and begin to coast downhill, I release a small sigh of relief, despite my exhausted lungs. I may have won a battle, but the war continues, and we continue to

It was the day before it all happened, everyone knew that people were coming to fight and take all the men, in the refugee to go fight against us, we didn’t know what to do with my father. Once my father came back home we were so sad because we didn’t want our dad to leave us, so we were planning to hide my father, Aunt Betsy was telling us kids to go in the room because, my parents had to talk. So me (Sally) and my little 5 year old brother. My little brother (Michael) all he talked about was being a warrior which I didn’t like because, we were going to be a in a war, but I didn't mind because I knew he was little and really didn’t know what he wanted to be.

Hello Marines you boys have been selected for the L.A.V training, but first you have to show you can do it. The first couple week weren't bad we were shooting some big boy guns with some big boy vehicles. The vehicles we are training to us go on land and on water. First to go in last to come out.

“James, JAMES!” My mom screamed. I stared at my alarm clock, 8:15 I thought about it, And ran downstairs and hid in the stairwell under the basement. They've come for me again, my mom has hidden all the boys in my family for 10 years. Every year the interdimensional travel police come looking for boys on the summer solstice to recruit for the war of the multiverse.The war for the ownership of Earth 1. I am from the original earth. But we had to leave. Earth is known a battlefield of the war. One day I would like to see my home. My family believes the war is pointless, mostly because everybody just wants control over Earth 1. As I walked out of the crawlspace and see the soldiers and walk towards them, their armor is shining a black and frightening

So when he told me that the end of the war would be a peaceful and glorious time I believed him with all my heart. And so did everyone else. But as time has gone on I’ve learned that to only be halfway true.

Many people have experienced the worst time of their life once. Some of them could say how football practice was bad, or how college calculus destroyed whatever brain cells they had left. Well there is a small number of people who experienced an event that no one else could ever experience. This event is something occurs only if you’re willing to sign up for the military. The day you fly out or ride to boot camp it’s a tradition and procedure that happens with every military all over the world. This tradition that makes people fear the military and the dreaded drill sergeants. No one will ever know the experience of shark attack like I have experienced it.

It was 5 am in the morning and I was flying over the Persian Gulf, I was exhausted from the 18 hour flight from Virginia. All I wanted to do was sleep, but the vast amount of emotions I had swirling around in my body kept me in a trance state. Scared because this was my first time in the Middle East and excited to finally see something new, it was a bittersweet moment for me. Finally we landed, Excited to feel my legs again, I rushed towards the front of the plane, only to feel like someone was holding a perpetual blow dryer and LED light to my face. And at that moment, I knew I had arrived in Qatar --- what has the military gotten me into?

I await for the day I will see you again. The thought of you keeps me going while I am fighting in the cold, dark, and musty trenches. They tell us we are fighting for the protection of our loved ones. When I sit with my gun in my hand I know I am doing this to protect you, my love. I hope you are not mad at me for volunteering, know that I did it for you. Here, I am making friends that I will keep for life.

Upon arriving to theater, the news spread out quick that one of our engineer platoons was hit

Watching the rough terrain and mountains fly past far below I found myself thinking and asking myself if I’ll ever make it home. Or would my name make front page in the paper of my small town titling “Private Jake Robinson KIA”. Let’s just say being flown into the most dangerous Province in Afghanistan after just completing basic the week before isn’t exactly heartwarming or reassuring.

We were at Fort Jackson or relaxing Jackson as some liked to call it but that nick name didn’t hold up to the meaning. There was nothing relaxing about this place. It was mid-January with blue skies, a slight wind, and the tempter sitting at seventy degrees. I was in the middle of in processing to my basic combat training (BCT) unit. I was with people from all over the United States, some who could barely speak English. We were all lined up in our fresh, unblemished uniforms ready to load the busses. My boots were as stiff as brick, rubbing my feet raw while my uniform rubbed my skin dry. We all picked up our bags and loaded up the busses.

The whip-like sting of the winter air assaulted Hank Valentine’s lungs like a war-party, a thousand strong, on a warpath. It felt as though the bitterness of the winter wind realized Hank had stepped out of the comfort of his cabin and purposely kicked down a degree or two, as though it was nature’s way of trying to get him to not venture out into the wilderness, but sometimes, . Hank dipped his stubbled chin into his chest, rolled the collar of his coat up around his cheeks, pulled his hat down tight and made his way to Dusty, his horse.

Deployment is something you can never mentally prepare yourself for no matter how countless number of times you have deployed. It was October 2011 in Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan, my name was called and my heart dropped to my stomach as I grabbed a hold of my rucksack, a green duffle bag, and my weapon. I couldn’t have weighed more than 120 pounds carrying about 130 pounds of gear. A 15-minute helicopter ride seemed like days for me. As we landed I recognized some of my coworkers waiting for us as they helped me bring my baggage to where I would be living at for the next 12 months. It was a 10 person living tent with 10 bunk